


Impatient Love

by IndigoDream



Series: Lovesong [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Beds, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortality, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Spells & Enchantments, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings, god jaskier, listen this is just the author needing tooth rotting fluff ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24496768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/pseuds/IndigoDream
Summary: The warm light of dawn is slowly trickling through the window, warming them in a golden light, and their bodies are still tangled in together. Jaskier would complain about being awake this early again, but there is a holiness to this moment. He knows Geralt is mortal, but there is so much more he could become, if Jaskier looks hard enough. Witchers are long lived, and Geralt is already nearing a hundred and fifty years old, but Jaskier won’t consider losing him. Not to a monster, not to time. Jaskier might only be a minor god, but his will can still bend the world.--Geralt is too impatient to wait to marry Jaskier properly, so Jaskier makes do with his own powers.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Lovesong [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744294
Comments: 15
Kudos: 250





	Impatient Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! 
> 
> This is the second fic in the Lovesong series, so this fic might not make sense without having read the first one!
> 
> It's a shorter fic than the first one, because... the boys just wanted to love each other so much. *so much*. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy 2.6k of sweet fluff!!

Jaskier has always been quite fond of sleeping in. Unfortunately, Geralt is a light sleeper, and he doesn’t seem to care much for his fiancé’s beauty rest. When he steers in Jaskier’s arms and the Muse protests, Geralt snorts. 

“You’re already beautiful enough,” he kisses his lover’s neck. 

“It’s still the middle of the night,” Jaskier complains anyway and pushes a hand through Geralt’s hair. “There isn’t any light coming in, and the world is quiet. Don’t we deserve some rest?” 

“You rested all day yesterday, and last night wasn’t the most intense night we ever had.” 

Jaskier grins. “Was it not? I remember you making the sweetest sounds as I fucked you, it was definitely a delight.” 

Geralt doesn’t blush, but his eyes dart away briefly. His tongue licks his lips and he takes a handful of seconds before looking back at Jaskier. It amazes the Muse each time, how shy Geralt can get whenever he compliments him on such matters. It’s not like the witcher is in any way a blushing maiden, but rather that compliments have been scarce through his life. Jaskier has slowly been working on making him accept them. 

“It was a nice evening to celebrate that you agreed to marry me,” Geralt finally rumbles, and Jaskier loves that sound.

Geralt’s voice is so gravely in the mornings, low and deep, and when he is slightly emotional, it drops even lower. It’s a small detail, something not many people would notice, something not many people are even allowed to hear, and Jaskier loves that he does. He loves everything about Geralt, that much is true, but there are some things he finds himself drowning happily for. 

“We’re engaged,” he whispers against Geralt’s lips. “I’m so happy that you asked me.” 

Geralt leans in and kisses him, long and slow, his hands tenderly caressing the naked skin pressed against his own. Jaskier doesn’t know how to express all the love, all the tenderness he feels. One song wasn’t enough, no amount of song or poetry will ever be enough to tell Geralt the depth of his feelings. Still, he knows that Geralt has finally understood him, finally listened to his words. 

“How long have you been wanting to ask me?” Jaskier wonders out loud, his fingers still tangled in his lover’s hair. “You obviously had put a lot of thoughts in what you were saying last night.” 

The warm light of dawn is slowly trickling through the window, warming them in a golden light, and their bodies are still tangled in together. Jaskier would complain about being awake this early again, but there is a holiness to this moment. He knows Geralt is mortal, but there is so much more he could become, if Jaskier looks hard enough. Witchers are long lived, and Geralt is already nearing a hundred and fifty years old, but Jaskier won’t consider losing him. Not to a monster, not to time. Jaskier might only be a minor god, but his will can still bend the world. 

“Months,” Geralt answers, unashamed. “I’ve wanted to ask you since the first time you told me you loved me. I wanted to wait though, until I… until I knew that you wouldn’t take it back. I know that you wouldn’t have but-“ 

“It’s alright,” Jaskier soothes with a pinch to his heart. “I know what you mean. Are you reassured enough now?” 

He keeps treading his fingers through Geralt’s hair, a calming motion that has his lover leaning into his touch and closing his eyes again. It’s on tender moments like those that Jaskier thrives. He may not be a god of love, but arts are inspired by all the feelings mortals feel, and Jaskier has always been drawn to love the most. And Geralt’s love? It’s the purest he has ever felt. 

It amazes him, each time he opens his sense to the feelings of those around him, how strongly Geralt feels. There is in the witcher such a depth of love, and while it’s a bruised love when it comes to the humanity he protects who despise him, when Ciri, Jaskier, Yennefer, or Geralt’s family is around, it blooms like the most delicate flower. 

Jaskier has never truly been jealous of the sorceress. She and Geralt have a special bond, and while at first he had resented her for it, he has grown to be quite fond of her as well. She raised Ciri and taught her how to control her chaos, and she has never sought out after Geralt again once it had become clear that him and Jaskier were together. Rather, she had seemed happy for them. So Jaskier isn’t jealous. In some way, he is grateful for her presence.

“Yes,” Geralt whispers softly. “As always when I am with you, I feel safe and loved and… I don’t need anything else in the world but you. I wish we could get married right this instant.” 

“It is barely morning, my love,” Jaskier laughs and kisses his witcher tenderly. “Be patient, we can wait until your family is with us, and we can celebrate properly!” 

“We could just ask the local Alderman to marry us,” Geralt shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind being married without anyone present. I would be happy to be able to call you my husband, no matter who offices the wedding.” 

“It’s too early my love, and do think about your family. Don’t you want them at your wedding?” 

The very thought of Geralt being so eager is heart warming, and Jaskier nearly gives in. After all, he wouldn’t care if anyone in the world were to marry them. But Geralt has a family, has people who are here to witness him in his love. Jaskier doesn’t, and he doesn’t want to take away any part of that mortal experience for Geralt. Not if he ever manages to find a way for Geralt to stay by his side until the world needs no longer a Muse. Or if he finds a way to renounce to his Title. 

He pushes all thought of that away when Geralt gets atop him, trailing kisses in his neck and torso. His hands are firmly set in the mattress by Jaskier’s shoulders and he is a warm but delicate weight. 

“I do,” he says in between two tender caresses, “But I would rather marry you now and do it all over again with them so that I can show them how happy I am with you, than do it only once in the winter… They won’t even care that we got married first anyway. They know the Path, and they know how easily things can go wrong. I would rather die your husband than not.” 

Jaskier stops him, grips his face in two hands. “Don’t talk of dying. I will never allow it.” 

“Death comes all of us mortals, my love,” Geralt says gently. “It isn’t anything pleasant, but that is why I enjoy every second of my life with you. One day, I won’t be there anymore and-“ 

“No!” Jaskier flips them over, plastering himself against Geralt and listening to his slow but steady heartbeat. “I don’t want to live a day without you. You are the only one I will ever love, my witcher. I haven’t loved like this before, and I’ll never again. You are the love of my life, and I know that there is no one else for me.” 

“This sounds awfully like wedding vows,” Geralt breathes out, his hand in Jaskier’s hair. “It’s quite cruel of you to tell me this, when you just said we should wait before our wedding… It makes me hope and ache with want.” 

Jaskier’s heart soars at the very words his lover uses. “You’re everything to me, Geralt. If getting married now is what you want, I can marry us in the ways of my people… I can make it so that every non-human will know from miles away that you belong to a Muse and that Muse belongs to you. Everyone will know you have stolen my heart and I willingly threw away the key. I adore you, and if you want to get married now, right here in this bed, I won’t deny you this.” 

“You won’t?” Geralt caresses his cheek, touches the golden glow of his lover. “You would accept to marry us in the ways of the Muses and other Gods?” 

Jaskier nods, kissing his palm and looking at him adoringly. The rising sun bathes them in golden light, and there has never been anything quite as beautiful as Jaskier’s lover, white hair spilled over the pillows, light blush covering his cheeks, and eyes shining brightly. His pale skin, so much paler than the Muse’s, is almost like diamond in the sunlight. He is Jaskier’s precious jewel, his beautiful love, so delicate and yet so strong. 

If Jaskier were a dragon, he’d hoard only Geralt. Keep the man close at hand and lavish him in love and riches, making sure that there is everything that is needed for Geralt’s happiness. But hoarding Geralt isn’t an option, because Jaskier is not a dragon, but also because Jaskier knows Geralt well enough to be aware that freedom is something his witcher needs. 

“I would,” he smiles sunnily. “I told you. I’ll love you like no one has dared before. I will love you the way no one has ever been loved, and everyone will be envious of how loved you are.” 

“You know I feel the same, don’t you? I can’t say it the way you do, but I love you more than anything…” 

“I can feel it,” Jaskier places a hand over Geralt’s heart. “Your inspiration, your need to create something worthwhile, your love… They all explode when you see me.”

“Please,” Geralt’s voice is fully begging now, his eyes pleading as well. “Please marry us.” 

Jaskier can’t resist him. He stays against Geralt’s chest and grabs tonly he man’s wrist, tracing a rune into the skin there with his finger. It glows a gentle red for a few seconds, and Jaskier traces the same symbol on his own wrist. When both runes are there, when they have both stopped glowing, Jaskier breathes on them the Air of Creation. 

After all, he isn’t a god of marriage or love. He is just a minor god of creation and inspiration. But what he breathes out will become a reality stronger than anything else. If they use his Breath to create a wedding bond between them, then even mortals will be able to know that the witcher is taken. One look at either of them will scream that they are married. 

“Say your vows,” he tells Geralt tenderly. “Speak them with all the intention you have, and they will be inscribed within the spell that I created for us.” 

— The adoring smile he is given nearly sends him blushing. Even after all the time they have been together, it sometimes surprises him, how easily affectionate Geralt can be now. He doesn’t shy away from loving Jaskier, doesn’t hide his smiles and tender caresses anymore. Anyone with eyes can see that Geralt loves Jaskier, just as much as Jaskier loves Geralt. It is such an easy thing for them to love each other. 

“I do not know which words could possibly express my utter devotion to you,” Geralt starts in a soft voice, barely above a whisper. “I vow to love you, to cherish you and protect you, until my dying breath. I vow to be by your side, for as long as you’ll want me. I vow to be yours, to listen to your complaints and to every word you say. You saved me from myself, Jaskier, saved me from a future of darkness and gloom, and helped me grow into the man that I am now.

“When you fall, I’ll be there to catch you and help you back on your feet. When you stumble, I’ll be there to hold your hand and help you stay upright. I’ll love you, unashamed and loud. When you thrive, so shall I, and when you cheer, so shall I. I wed thee, Jaskier, Muse of Creation, and with that I swear to you unending loyalty and love.”

Every word he says, he means it. Jaskier can see it. It’s in the way he says the words, in the quiet seriousness of his eyes and the heavy set of his brows. He wishes the words true, and they become so as the magic captures them, immortalizing them in the rune and their mind. 

The words were simple enough, human vows that Jaskier has heard many times before, but there has never been before quite this intensity to those words. Never, in the history of humanity, has anyone ever spoken their wedding vows with the fierce faith that Geralt did. And it chokes Jaskier a little, that well of love he is offered. 

“Your turn, Jask,” Geralt says gently, nudging his shoulder. “Unless it was just me…?” 

The Muse shakes his head, tears falling down his cheeks. Happiness overflows within him, and he can tell that his magic is growing strong, can feel the people down the street getting hit with inspiration and desire to do all the projects they have been putting off. He doesn’t even attempt to reign it in. 

“I love you, Geralt of Rivia,” he says through his tears, trying to put as much devotion in his voice that Geralt had done. How can a witcher have outdone the Muse of Creation, a god? 

“I love you more than I thought it possible to love. I make the oath to love you until my dying day, until the universe collapse and takes me with it. You shall not want nor fear by my side, for I will grant you whatever your heart desires. To be yours would be the greatest honour ever bestowed upon me. Any pain, I will take away, any joy, I will share.

“I share with you my life, and with it my powers. I give you the blessing of the gods, and I give you my love. I give you myself, over and over. I wed thee, Geralt of Rivia, White Wolf, witcher and protector of the innocents, and with that, I swear to you unending loyalty and love.” 

Geralt’s eyes are full of tears when Jaskier finishes his own vows, and he drags Jaskier for a kiss, tender and yet full of fire. It is a promise, an oath being sealed. Their wrists glow and burns slightly and the symbol becomes almost transparent as the magic takes hold of them. 

They kiss as the air around them bristles with magic, as the golden glow of the morning light bows to the bright glow of Jaskier’s, no, not just Jaskier’s anymore, _their_ magic. 

They are one in the eyes of the gods, indiscernible. Geralt has taken from Jaskier what Jaskier was begging to give him: his life, his immortality, his everything. 

They’ll never be apart anymore. They are married, the gods themselves have blessed them, and their union is sealed in magic. 

Jaskier breathes out slowly when they break the kiss, and for an instant, his own eyes glow golden. After all, they are one. 

Geralt’s eyes are blue for that second, and he grins widely. 

“My husband,” he says lovingly, caressing Jaskier’s cheek. 

“Your husband,” Jaskier repeats, and the word only reinforces the magic around them. 

For as long as they are together, they are untouchable. 

The sun rises fully over the small town, but everyone is already busy. Inspiration and creation have hit everyone, and no one thinks anything of it when the bard and the witcher leave town that evening, a matching golden glow on them. After all, who can tell that they weren’t like this before?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed it!! Don't hesitate to leave a comment or kudos! Come check my fics out on my tumblr or just talk to me :D (@saltytransidiot).


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